Sighting
by vampassassin
Summary: Alex feels like he's losing it after being saved from an accident by a dead man. Then, a mysterious 'Ray Dunne' appears with demands he stop his search for Yassen Gregorovich. Sure he's not chasing shadows, Alex is determined to find out what's going on.
1. Chapter 1

**Um yeah, this is only meant to be very short. Not quite a one-shot, but not a full story. It's mostly just an idea I've had for awhile, something I came up with a couple of weeks back to a lapse in creativity on my part. And yes, in case you happen to watch 'Teen Titans', I did get this idea roughly from an episode of that, back when I still watched that show.**

* * *

**Chapter One, First Sighting**

Alex was late. It was something he hated being, but never the less, that was the position he found himself in. School had started half hour ago, but Alex had slept through his alarm and as a result, was now sprinting through morning rush hour London, wearing his school uniform and carrying a heavy schoolbag containing all the assignments and homework he'd had to make up.

As he ran down a path, crowded with businessmen and women, Alex felt his mobile phone buzz in his pocket. Trying not to slow down, Alex fished his phone out his pocket and looked at the screen. It was Tom.

_Where R U? Teachrs think ure 'sick' again._

Groaning, Alex tried not to curse under his breath. He'd managed to attend school for an almost record-setting two months now without a single absent day or late mark. The teachers, initially disbelieving, had now adopted a sort of expectation that he was going to start his cycle of mysterious illnesses and absences all over again. Alex, determined to finally do well academically, found their refusal to give him a chance immensely frustrating.

Alex began to message Tom back, precariously attempting to keep up his run and not let his heavy bag trip him up all at the same time.

_I'm coming. Plz tell teachrs I'm NOT 'sick'._

Tom's reply came after a minute or so, letting Alex make up for the time and speed he'd lost whilst messaging Tom before.

_I did…They don't believe me._

"Oh for God's sakes," Alex muttered, before dialling Tom's number angrily. He was picked up on the first buzz.

"Hey mate, I tried talking to Ms. Harris. She doesn't believe me!"

"Put her on," Alex grunted, stumbling over the gutter, bag swinging to unbalance him, "I'll talk to her."

"Right mate." Tom replied, "But she's really pissed off about-"

The rest of Tom's words faded into insignificance as Alex dropped his mobile phone. So caught up in talking to Tom, he hadn't realised he'd walked onto the road. A silver Vauxhall Astra was bearing down on him, the driver's face just as horrified as Alex's behind the windscreen. Alex squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the bone shattering impact.

There was an impact, but not the fatal or debilitating one he'd expected. Something solid hit him from behind, driving him roughly to the ground, out of the path of the incoming vehicle. Alex opened his eyes, wincing at the blaring horns and squealing brakes of cars all around him.

Shaken, Alex sat up. A man, tall and thin had seemingly crashed into him, pushing him out of the way of the car. The man regarded him with half worried, half amused blue eyes, having managed to get to his feet again.

"Are you alright?"

Alex nodded numbly, feeling his own eyes widen as he absorbed the man's face. The man took his shocked scrutiny with only a slight smirk.

"Y-yeah…"

The man smiled at him reassuringly before running out of the road. Alex lost sight of him as crowds of worried pedestrians and onlookers swarmed him, all asking if he was alright, if he needed an ambulance... Alex refused the ambulance and shakily got to his feet. The Astra's owner was apologising profusely, even though it had been Alex who'd walked into the road. Alex didn't pay her any attention however, already walking with a new purpose in mind.

He needed to talk to MI6. Now. Forget school, this was a minor emergency.

Why?

Because, the man who'd just saved Alex from being run over…Alex had only got a quick glimpse of his face, but he was sure that the man had been Yassen Gregorovich, which was, to say the least, very unusual as the man was supposed to be dead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, I know this chapter is really short, but that's the way I'm formatting this story: with really short chapters, but equally short lengths of time between updates. Except for the next few days; I'm going away with my sister to the coast where there's no internet... All I can say is that I hope I get to do a lot of fishing, because I might just lose my grip on sanity without internet access!!**

* * *

**Chapter Two, Uncertainty**

As impatient as he was, Alex found the wait in the Royal and General's lobby near unbearable. He'd burst into the building, demanding to the receptionist that he be allowed to go see Mrs. Jones immediately. Although the receptionist knew him by sight, she'd still insisted on him waiting there whilst she buzzed upstairs.

"Can you please hurry the hell up?" He begged the red haired girl, "This is _really_ important!"

The girl listened to something on her headset for a moment before nodding to Alex.

"Yes," she said, a little grumpy at the way he'd treated her, "You're allowed up now."

Alex shot her a quick smile of gratitude before hurrying into the elevator. Presumably the machine was pre-programmed, because it moved up quickly without any help from him. Alex barely waited for the doors to slide open before bolting through them. He stopped when he realised Mrs. Jones was waiting for him on the other side.

"Blunt wants to know what's going on too," she said by way of introduction. She led the way to her boss' office, "Seeing as you never come here willingly, he's a little curious."

Alex nodded tensely; for once glad he was going into the grey man's office.

"Alex, take a seat." Alan Blunt looked much the same as ever, motioning to the uncomfortable looking chair in front of his desk. "What do you need to talk to us so badly about? The receptionist downstairs said you were quite rude."

Alex didn't bother feeling insulted by that remark. He dived right in, determined to get this whole thing sorted out.

"I think I saw Yassen Gregorovich."

That statement didn't have quite the conversational _oomph_ Alex had been expecting. Mrs. Jones frowned at him, one cheek bulging out slightly as she stored her customary peppermint there.

"Excuse me?"

Alex bit his bottom lip, realising that maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as he'd expected. But then, that was fair enough; it's never going to be easy to explain you were just saved from being run over by the world's best assassin who, incidentally, is supposed to have died after being shot in the chest at point-blank range.

"Um, in the street," Alex explained, "I walked into the road, and a car was going to hit me, but this man pushed me out of the way. I think…I _know_ it was Yassen."

Mrs. Jones exchanged a worried glance with Blunt and Alex felt his heart sink. There was something in their eyes he didn't like.

"Alex," Mrs. Jones said gently, "I'm not trying to be, well, cruel here, but did you realise you hit your head?"

Alex frowned, instinctively putting his hand up to his forehead, just below his hairline. To his surprise, he could feel sticky, half congealed blood. He hadn't known; he'd been to intent on getting to this point.

"But…" He trailed off, studying his bloodied fingers in confusion, "That doesn't mean anything! I know what I saw…"

Mrs. Jones shook her head and glanced at her boss again. Blunt nodded, seemingly a sign for her to continue.

"Alex, that may be the case," She agreed, but Alex knew she was humouring him, "But regardless, I think you're in shock. That's perfectly understandable considering that you were nearly killed, but you need to understand, people make mistakes when they're in shock and that's-"

"No!" Alex exclaimed, jumping to his feet, "No I'm not in shock! I know what I saw! Don't you think I'd have the man's face committed to memory, considering he killed my Uncle and nearly had me killed as well in a bullfight?! Not to mention the whole thing with Cray!"

It was no use though, Alex could see from the expression on Mrs. Jones' and Alan Blunt's faces that they still didn't believe him. He sighed and sat back down, knowing that in this respect, he was getting nowhere. Mrs. Jones looked at him sympathetically and put a hand on Alex's shoulder.

"Look, I know this must be frustrating," she said as kindly as she could, "But trust me, Alan and I know what we're talking about."

"Yeah, sure," Alex muttered, not able to work any real bite into his voice, "Just like all the other times."

Mrs. Jones chose to ignore that comment and led Alex out of the office and into a smaller room halfway down the hall. A woman in pale blue scrubs was standing, seemingly waiting for them.

"Della is going to patch you up, okay?" Mrs. Jones said, before leaving the room. Alex watched her go, feeling very upset and betrayed.

"Alright Alex," Della said cheerfully in a rather grating cockney accent. Alex didn't bother asking how she knew his name. "Just sit up on the bed there; I'm going to have a look at that gash on your noggin."

Alex grimaced, but did as he was told, leaving his schoolbag on the floor. Della, pushing his hair back, studied the wound pensively. She pursed her lips and clicked her tongue.

"My, that's certainly an ugly little bleeder, but it won't bother you none. You're a lucky kid; it could've been far worse. Just hold still whilst I take care of it."

* * *

Mrs. Jones returned to Alan Blunt's office after dropping Alex off with Della. Her boss looked up at her as she closed the door to give the two of them some privacy.

"This isn't good Alan." Mrs. Jones said stressfully, sinking into the chair that Alex had just recently vacated. "He's convinced he's seen Yassen."

"I know, but what can we do?" Blunt asked wearily. Truth be told, dealing with Alex left him feeling drained. "He's not listening to us, he never does."

"That still doesn't help us decide how to deal with this," Mrs. Jones said snappishly, "We can't just let this go…You know what Alex is like one he really gets set on a course of action."

Blunt held up his hands calmingly.

"Tulip, this might be alright," he said, "You never know, Alex just might let this one go. After all, things are different now; he's back in school and from what I hear, Ms. Starbright is keeping him on quite a tight leash. She doesn't want him involved in anything dangerous any more then we do."

Mrs. Jones sucked on her peppermint for a moment, considering what her boss was saying.

"So we just leave things as they are for now?"

Alan Blunt nodded and went back to his paperwork.

"Exactly."

* * *

Although Della hadn't predicted the gash on Alex's head giving him too much trouble, she'd sternly demanded he take the rest of the day off, just in case. Alex felt his mood sink even further at that; when he returned to school tomorrow, he was going to be subjected to the teacher's dry, unsurprised remarks such as "So we're to be graced with your presence today Mr. Rider?"

"Alex! Oh thank God!"

Alex sighed and looked up from where he'd been waiting in the Royal and General's marble lobby. Della or someone had called Jack, asking her to come pick Alex up. As per usual, they'd skipped on the details, so poor Jack had had no idea what had happened. For all she knew, Alex could have been shot again.

"Hey Jack." Alex smiled faintly at her, trying to be reassuring despite his low mood. "Sorry about this."

Jack hurried up to him, studying his face minutely.

"Are you sure you're alright? What happened?"

Alex pushed up his hair out of his face so Jack could see where the gash on his forehead had been taped up.

"I nearly had a little mishap with a car. I wasn't hit, but I managed to pick up a small souvenir anyway."

Jack bit her lip worriedly and turned to the receptionist who was still sulking over Alex's rudeness.

"Can I just take him home now," She asked, "I don't need to sign him out or anything?"

The girl shook her head.

"Nope, that's all taken care of. Just make sure that he doesn't exert himself or anything."

Jack nodded her thanks and led the way out of the 'bank'. Alex followed her out, still trying to piece together the day's events. He'd been certain that he'd seen Yassen, but Mrs. Jones' argument was so logical… Alex felt uncertainty cloud his mind, scrambling his train of thought.

"We need to hurry," Jack said, sounding harassed, "I sort of parked in a no stopping zone, and I really don't want the car towed…"

Alex nodded and once they reached the car, promptly went on 'parking inspector lookout' whilst Jack searched frantically through her bag for her keys, cursing under her breath the entire time.

So intent on his respective job, Alex didn't notice the man in the black designer bomber jacket, suspiciously watching him from the entrance of a tourist souvenir shop. Once Alex and Jack had left, the man quickly slipped out of the shop and into the lobby of the Royal and General.

* * *

"Alright Alex, would you _please_ tell me what's going on before my head explodes?!"

Alex raised a brow, looking up from his plate of Chinese take-out. Jack hadn't even bothered trying to cook, being too stressed out by Alex's 'head injury' and the need to call the school to inform them that Alex wasn't coming that day. It hadn't gone down well, the administrative dragon on the other end had growled at Jack about Alex's already poor attendance record and how they were going to need a signed doctor's note containing full details on the 'incident'.

"I nearly got hit by a car," Alex shrugged, chewing on an obscenely large mouthful of moo-shoo pork, "I thought that it was kind of self-explanatory."

Jack wrinkled her nose in distaste, although Alex thought might have been because off the less then appealing display of chewed up food Alex presented her with rather then his explanation.

"Nearly?" She asked, waiting for Alex to swallow his mouthful this time, "You mean you managed to get out of the way?"

"Um…" Alex tried to buy himself some time by taking a sip of his coke, "Sort of…"

Jack's brows shot up and a new tone of demand entered her voice.

"_Sort_ of? What the hell does that mean?!"

Alex winced and put his glass down. He had a headache coming on.

"Well, I kind of had help…"

Jack's lips were pressed together in a thin, grim line.

"Alex, I don't want to hear another 'sort of' or 'kid of'! I want a full, detailed explanation of what happened and why you're so quiet now!"

Alex grimaced at his rapidly diminishing plate of food. Ever since returning home after the whole Snakehead affair, Jack had been more authoritarian then ever before. Alex knew it was because she was trying to stop him from getting into trouble again, but at times like these, it was a little irritating.

"Alright," he sighed, "I was going to get splattered all over the road, but someone pushed me out of the way."

Jack cringed slightly at the poor wording 'splattered all over the road', but nodded anyway.

"Go on?"

Alex swallowed nervously, fidgeting slightly.

"Well, this guy…I only got a really quick look at his face, but I knew him… Do you remember me telling you about Yassen Gregorovich?"

Jack paled slightly, but didn't lose her composure.

"Yes, a man like that is hard to forget…You're trying to tell me you saw Yassen?"

Alex shrugged half heartedly, appetite suddenly ruined. Jack shook her head slowly, obviously trying to figure out where to go from there.

"And that's why you went to Mrs. Jones?" Jack asked, "To tell them?"

"Yeah," Alex admitted, "I didn't know what else to do."

"And what did they say?"

Alex frowned, feeling all his uncertainty and confusion well up again.

"They said that I was in shock after nearly being hit by the car, that I was imagining things…Of course, having a head wound didn't help my case."

Jack sighed, the gesture tinged with relief. It was quite obvious that the prospect of Yassen being alive and in London bothered her.

"Well, they're almost certainly right," She said briskly, standing to clear the table. Alex followed her into the kitchen. "It was just a mistake."

Alex felt annoyed, realising that despite Mrs. Jones' sound logic and Jack's conviction, he didn't believe it.

"I don't think it was Jack," He said, trying not to sound argumentative, "I mean, why would I make that sort of mistake? I'm pretty sure that even if I was in shock, my eyes were working fine."

Jack look upset now and Alex realised he was pushing the matter a little too far. She dumped the pile of used dishes in the sink and turned to face him.

"Alex, listen to me," she said in a tone of weary finality, "you had a bad scare today, nearly being hit by a car like that. People react to those sorts of incidents in all sorts of different ways. With you, it was seeing Yassen. Who knows? Maybe it's because you have some unresolved guilt over the way he died. My point is though, don't start obsessing over this."

Alex didn't say anything, but Jack saw the mutinous look in his eyes. Feeling angry, she shook her head threateningly at him.

"Alex, I'm warning you," She said crankily, "Don't force me into action over this. I really don't want to, but I will if that's what it takes to keep you out of trouble. Understand me?"

"Yes." Alex replied sullenly, meeting Jack's eye. Jack turned back to the dishes, not noticing Alex had his fingers crossed behind his back.

* * *

**Hehe, Alex is a misbehaved little brat, isn't he? That's okay though, he wouldn't be interesting if he wasn't, would he? Poor Jack though, trying to set down some rules...**

**Anyway, tell me what you think. Predictions, guesses, questions etc. are welcome as always. I love hearing from you guys :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry if it's sort of annoying the way I'm posting so many chapters so quickly, but I want to get as much of this chapter up as possible before I leave tomorrow for the coast with my sister...**

* * *

**Chapter Three, Second Sighting?**

Alex was not happy about being back at the Royal and General for a second time in as many days. He had no choice though, the admin lady from school had been quite clear that she wanted a note detailing Alex's injury before he came back to school. Jack had already called to say that although he was going to be late, Alex _would_ be attending today and _with_ a note.

The girl behind the reception desk eyed him unhappily as he walked in.

"Oh, you again." She didn't bother with formalities, "I'll buzz upstairs."

Alex smiled, trying to make up a little for his behaviour the previous day. He wasn't usually rude to people.

"Yeah, thanks. And sorry about yesterday."

The girl sniffed and tried to ignore him, but Alex saw the mollified expression on her face. He shook his head; he didn't have the energy or willpower to deal with the girl's problems.

"Mrs. Jones says you can come up," the girl said eventually. Alex noticed she wore a name badge. 'Clarisse Hopkins'. He smiled again at her, figuring that if he had to come back here in the near future, it would be best to have a good relationship with her.

"Thanks Clarisse," Alex said as nicely as he could, "And I like your shirt."

As Alex walked into the elevator, he was amused to see Clarisse blushing just before the lift doors shut.

* * *

"Not be rude," Mrs. Jones said, frowning at him, "But what are you here for?"

Alex shrugged.

"My school needs a signed note for yesterday from a doctor. So I came to see if Della would take care of that for me, considering she's the one who patched me up."

Mrs. Jones' expression cleared; it was obvious she'd thought that Alex had come to continue the argument from before.

"Oh yes, I forgot," She said cheerfully, "You've been back at school for so long now; I would have thought they would have dispensed with their suspicions."

Alex tried to look nonchalant.

"Well, I guess not. Where's Della?"

Mrs. Jones pointed down the hallway. It was L-shaped; Alex wasn't able to see around the corner.

"She's near the end," Mrs. Jones said helpfully, "On the right, second last. Not all the way down; if you end up in a room that looks like a security booth, you've gone too far."

"Thanks."

* * *

Alex didn't go to Della's office. He'd changed his mind about that the instant Mrs. Jones had mentioned the room that looked like a security booth.

So, instead of knocking on Della's office door, Alex quietly let himself into the other room, careful to shut the door and lock it behind him. At least now he'd have advance warning if someone tried to get in.

Thankfully, the room was empty. Alex moved forward past a bank of monitors; the flickering grey light from the TV's providing the only illumination in the room. There were no windows.

As he walked forward, Alex saw what he'd been looking for: a stout, metal cabinet. It was one of several in the small room. There was a note pinned to a cork board. _'For older tapes, ask Records'_. To his surprise, the drawers were unlocked. He guessed that MI6 had taken it for granted that no one would be able or daring enough to make it this far without being caught.

The drawers were filled with exactly what Alex had suspected: video discs all marked with a date and time. To make things even more helpful, they were in chronological order. Alex felt a little like he was in an OCD sufferer's room. Alex grinned at that thought and flicked through the discs. Eventually, he found one that caught his attention. It looked to be around the right time frame for when he'd been in the building.

Pulling the tape out, Alex moved a couple of steps to where a smaller TV was hooked up to a DVD machine. Alex fed the disc he'd selected in and waited. After a few minutes of clumsy fast-forwarding and pausing, Alex saw what he'd been looking for: him following Jack out. Satisfied, Alex turned away and began searching another drawer in the cabinet marked 'City CCTV'.

Because he was turned away from the TV, Alex missed a sequence in the tape where a man wearing an expensive black bomber jacket entered the lobby. The man seemed to talk to the receptionist briefly (the video had no sound), pointing to the point where Alex and Jack had been a moment ago. The receptionist nodded and went back to work whilst the man took the elevator up to the same floor Alex had just been on. After that, the disc ended.

As he searched through the 'CCTV' section, Alex found what he'd been looking for. A shot of the street he'd nearly been killed on with the right time frame. Taking the other, ended disc out of the DVD player, Alex put the new one in and began to watch.

* * *

Mrs. Jones had been working for a few minutes before she decided to go downstairs to see someone about a report they'd filed late. As she walked down the hallway, she caught sight of Della leaving her office.

"Alex gone then?" Mrs. Jones asked casually, more for the sake of conversation then actual curiosity.

Della looked at Mrs. Jones with a frown.

"Sorry, what?"

Mrs. Jones felt suspicion spark into life in the back of her mind.

"Alex. I asked if Alex was gone. He came for you to sign a note for his school?"

Della looked puzzled as she shook her head.

"Sorry, but I'm not sure what you're talking about; I haven't seen Alex at all today."

Mrs. Jones stopped dead in her tracks.

"You're sure about that?"

"100 percent. I saw him yesterday, but not today."

"Alright, thank you Della," Mrs. Jones said offhandedly before striding back to her office. Once there, she picked up the phone on her desk and dialled the lobby receptionist.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Clarisse. It's Mrs. Jones."

"Oh, hello. What can I do for you?" Clarisse sounded startled. Usually she called upstairs, not the other way around. After all, Mrs. Jones had a personal secretary.

"Has Alex left the building?"

"No," Clarisse sounded surprised now, as if she didn't understand why Mrs. Jones didn't know this already, "I sent him up to you, remember? I haven't seen him come back down yet."

"Alright, thankyou anyway Clarisse." Mrs. Jones said, before putting the phone down and thinking hard. She tried to think where Alex might have gone without telling or asking her. After a minute or so, she was still drawing blanks, so she dialled building security.

"George here." The head of building security picked up on the first ring.

"George, its Mrs. Jones. I have a favour to ask you. I need a full building search done, but I need it done quietly. Can you do that for me?"

"Certainly," George didn't hesitate. He'd had stranger requests in his time, "What am I searching for?"

"A fourteen year old boy. He shouldn't be too hard to find, should he?"

"Actually, I have access to the entire building's security camera network from my office," George said, "I'll have a quick look now for you. Just hold on a tick."

Mrs. Jones did as she was asked, feeling her impatience grow. After awhile, she heard a muttered curse and George returned to the line.

"Looks like that search is still on," he grunted, "The entire network just got turned off."

Mrs. Jones frowned at the phone in her hand and tried to dredge up what knowledge she had about the building's camera network.

"That can only be done from two rooms in the entire building right?"

"Yes," George replied, "My office and the security booth on your level and I can tell you now, the brat isn't hiding in my office. I've already got two of my guys heading up there to your level. Do you want to go in with them?"

"Yes, I'll be waiting for them." Mrs. Jones replied before hanging up again. As she headed out the door of her office and down the long hallway, she thought to herself,

'_What's he doing in the security booth?'_

* * *

Alex leaned in close to the TV screen, turning away from the switch he'd thrown to turn off the building's camera network, watching as the small image of him on the phone to Tom came into view. He watched as he walked into the screen, looked up at the approaching car and-

_There!_

Alex quickly pressed pause on the DVD player and looked at the frozen scene. There was him, sprawled out clumsily on the street. And there was…

Alex frowned. Where Yassen's (or whoever's it was) face was meant to be, was a blur. Like on the news when a person wanted their identity concealed, the network put a haze over their face. Alex couldn't see what or who he was looking at. Utterly confused, Alex ejected the DVD and was going to put in his pocket and leave the room when the door gave a rattle. Someone was trying to get in, but was being beaten by the lock.

"Alex!" It was Mrs. Jones, "I know you're in there. I've got security coming, so just come out now and avoid making a big deal out of this."

"No way," Alex muttered, pocketing the DVD and quickly returning the room to the way he'd found it, "Not a chance in hell."

Alex looked around the room, trying to decide on his next course of action. Although the room offered a multitude of hiding spots, he knew he couldn't use any of them; he'd be found quickly and have the DVD taken off of him. Alex grimaced and continued searching, painfully aware that he maybe had seconds before security arrived and either unlocked the door or broke it down and dragged him out of here, kicking and screaming.

There were no windows to escape through. Alex hadn't been especially taken with that option anyway; he wasn't a huge fan of heights. Growing desperate, Alex was about to admit defeat as the room seemed to offer no method of escape when he saw that roof was made of easily removable plaster panels. Outside, Mrs. Jones seemed to be speaking to someone.

Heart racing in his chest, Alex hurried over to the largest metal cabinet in the room. Acting as fast as he could, Alex climbed up on it and tried to move the panel with his hand. The panel moved easily, showering him with plaster dust and musty air. Alex, using all of his upper body strength, reached up and pulled himself into the purpose made crawl space. Once up there, he slid the panel back into position. Now he was hidden and it would take the security guards awhile to figure out what he had done because he hadn't broken the roof panel.

Immensely satisfied with himself, Alex began to wriggle along the narrow crawlspace, looking for an empty room he could drop down into and leave the building undetected.

* * *

In the end, the two security guards had to break the door down. Bursting into the room, one of them called back to Mrs. Jones.

"It's clear."

Trying not to remain calm, Mrs. Jones walked into the room. It looked empty, but she knew Alex was cunning and skilled at concealing himself.

"Look under all the chairs and desks," she said sharply, "Look anywhere that's big enough to hide a person."

Looking a little unhappy at their job, the guards never the less did as they were told. Starting to worry after they still hadn't found Alex after a few minutes, Mrs. Jones walked further into the room, trying to see if there was anything they were missing. It didn't take long for her sharp eyes to notice the layer of powdered plaster and dust that coated the top of the largest cabinet. She looked up and saw that the roof panel directly above her was sitting crooked.

"He's in the roof!" She gasped, turning to the guards who were looking at her dumbfounded, "He's using the roof crawlspace! Quick, call downstairs and get them to lock down the front entrance! Alex can't be allowed to leave this building!"

With a speed born of several years service to building security, the taller guard promptly began barking out orders on his radio. However, after a long minute, the dreaded reply came.

"Sorry ma'am," The guard said simply, "We're too late; Alex Rider has left the building."

Mrs. Jones, in a rare moment of poor temper control, muttered a curse under her mint scented breath.

* * *

Alex was careful to avoid drawing attention to himself as he hurried away from the Royal and General. Inside his school uniform's pocket, the disc dug into his side. Alex wasn't sure why he'd pocketed the disc; after all, he couldn't see the face he was looking for. The only thing that stopped him from throwing the disc away now was his friend Michael Davies.

* * *

As Alex entered the office of his school, one of the ladies looked up at him with raised brows.

"You're a mess." She said bluntly. Surprised, Alex looked down at himself. His uniform was covered in dust from the crawlspace. Blushing, he quickly brushed himself off, drawing more contempt from the office woman when he caused the dust to end up embedded in the carpet.

"Do you have your doctor's note Mr. Rider?" The woman asked eventually, looking at him distastefully, like he was a tramp who'd turned up on her doorstep, begging for money.

Alex reached into his pocket to produce the note, but then stopped. With a wince, he remembered he'd never had the chance to ask Della to sign it. Damn, Jack would eat him alive when she heard.

"Um, I forgot…"

The woman looked maliciously delighted by these turn of events.

"Well Mr. Rider, I suppose I have to let you into class regardless, but I believe that you will most probably end up with a detention for this."

Alex managed not to share several of the highly explicit responses that came to mind. That, he supposed, was advantage missions had over school: there was no one to throw a tantrum at you if you happened to be prone to bad language.

"Okay, fine." Alex said instead, glaring at the woman sourly, before turning around and walking to class.

* * *

As he'd expected, the teacher was less then thrilled as Alex walked into the classroom.

"Oh, decided to join us have you?" She asked snidely, amidst giggles from her students, "Not too good for us suddenly?"

Alex blushed, mumbled a cursory excuse and quickly looked for a seat. To his relief, he found one next to his only other friend besides Tom, Michael Davies. As soon as he was seated, the teacher resumed her droning lecture on the definition of an 'ecosystem'.

"Hey mate," Michael greeted him easily, "Decided not to bunk off after all?"

Unlike with the teacher, this question was teasing and gentle coming from the black haired boy. Alex grinned at him.

"Yeah," he replied, "I figured I'd give the whole school thing a shot; I mean, there's only so much amusement you can get out of tropical beaches and women in tiny bikinis."

Michael dissolved into a poorly contained laughing fit, obviously amused by Alex's joking explanation for his whereabouts.

"Tell me?" Michael asked, "How many of these women are imaginary?"

Alex thumped Michael good-naturedly in the shoulder, stopping when the teacher's shrill voice cut in on their conversation.

"Mr. Rider, judging by the manner in which you're not taking notes, you obviously already have an extensive knowledge of the class material. Perhaps you'd like to define an ecosystem using my lecture?"

Alex froze, mouth falling open. He had no clue what the definition of an ecosystem was, much less according to Ms. Harris' standards.

Fortunately, Michael had been taking notes. The boy pretended to cough, jostling Alex in the process. Subtly glancing at the notes, Alex promptly spat out,

"A system of existence formed by both living organisms and their inanimate environmental surroundings."

Obviously disappointed that she wouldn't have a chance to gripe at Alex further, Ms. Harris turned back to the board, allowing Alex to continue his conversation unbothered.

"Hey Mike," Alex said, "Your Mum is a photographer, right?"

Michael raised a brow quizzically.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

Alex hesitated, wondering if he had the right to bring his friend into all of this. Then, he shook himself. It was a simple favour, not dangerous at all.

"I have a video clip," Alex said slowly, "And there's a scene that when I freeze it, this guy's face gets all covered up in that fuzz stuff they use on the news to preserve people's privacy. You know what I mean?"

Michael nodded, still not understanding where this was going.

"What's that got to do with my Mum being a photographer?"

Alex shrugged.

"I figured she might have the knowledge or software to be able to take the blur off."

"Yeah, she might," Michael thought about it, "And she's working today, so if you don't mind bunking off the rest of the day, we could go see her at lunch."

"What about you?" Alex asked, "Won't your Mum mind you skipping school?"

Michael grinned widely.

"Nope. My Mum says that she doesn't care about my school attendance, so long as my academic performance stays as high as it is."

"Cool," Alex had to grin as well, "Let's go see her then."

"I have a question though," Michael said suddenly, giving Alex a suspicious, enquiring look. "Why do you need to know this guy's identity? And what's the video of?"

Alex squirmed in his seat uncomfortably.

"That's more then one question."

Michael wasn't impressed.

"Look mate, either you answer all my questions or I don't take you to see my Mum. I'm only asking because…"

Alex raised a brow.

"Because?"

Michael sighed and threw his hands up in defeat.

"Well, you know about your reputation as a crook. I trust you, but just in case, I don't want to give my Mum a clip of you robbing a shop or something. She has no problems bending the rules a little to do favours for people, but not modifying police tapes or anything like that."

Alex gave Michael a sour look.

"So basically, it's I trust you, but not really?"

"Aw come on mate," Michael complained, "Don't be like that. I'm just saying is all."

Alex sighed and gave in.

"Okay, I am in the clip, but it's not me robbing a shop. It's from yesterday; I was nearly hit by a car."

Michael nodded encouragingly, idly scribbling on a sheet of paper.

"And?"

Alex considered his next words carefully. He knew he had to make this next bit convincing without revealing the truth.

"Well, some guy pushed me out of the way. I think I know who it was already, but the guy I'm thinking of is…well, anti-social to say the least. He's an old...associate of my Uncle's."

Michael considered Alex's words.

"So, what, you want to see if it is him to…I dunno, thank him?"

Alex nodded, grateful Michael had provided the excuse himself.

"Yeah, exactly."

"Why don't you just call him?"

Alex resisted the urge to groan. As much as Michael was his friend, he had a tendency to make things complicated very quickly with his questions that always hit just a little too close to home.

"He doesn't like me much," Alex admitted, "I sort of got him into trouble awhile back with his boss… I got him fired."

Michael didn't notice it, but Alex couldn't help but cringe at his own poor choice of words. They echoed Cray's words too much for his liking.

"Oh," Michael nodded, "Yeah, I can see why he wouldn't like you very much then."

"But I really want to make sure it was him," Alex said, steering the conversation back to his main point, "So that if it was, I can thank him."

Michael shrugged.

"Fair enough. We'll go see my Mum then."

* * *

It was a simple enough matter to sneak out of the school grounds through a hole in the chain fence and catch the tube to the office Michael's Mum worked in. As they walked into the very upscale looking lobby, Michael waved to the receptionist.

"Hey Troy, we're going to see my Mum!"

Troy, a balding middle aged man, just smiled indulgently and waved them on.

"I'll call and tell her you're coming up."

"Cheers."

* * *

Alex's first impression of Michael's mother was that she didn't look like a mother. Tall, glamorous and wearing designer clothing, she looked like a impassive model posing as a businesswoman.

That illusion was lost however as Mrs. Davies saw her son. Her face broke into a wide, beautiful smile that displayed infinite love for her son. Alex was glad for Michael; he'd had it tough lately between his Father running off to Spain without a word and being picked on at school for his good marks.

"I didn't realise school go out so early these days." She said teasingly, raising a brow. Michael smirked and shrugged.

"Half days to those who know the secret ways." He said in a slightly sing-song voice.

"You snuck out through the fence?"

Michael laughed, knowing he'd told his Mother about that particular trick.

"Yep."

Mrs. Davies gave a mocking frown and turned to Alex.

"Hello, he didn't drag you out of school too did he?" She asked, offering her hand. Alex shook it.

'No, I was the one who suggested coming to see you," He said, "My name's Alex Rider."

Mrs. Davies looked delighted.

"_The_ Alex Rider?" She asked, "As in the one who manages to be in therapy, a crook and overseas BASE jumping all at the same time?"

Alex blushed; he hadn't realised that Michael had told his Mum all of the school rumours.

"Um, yeah."

"Well, it's a definite pleasure then," Mrs. Davies smiled, showing her million dollar toothpaste ad smile, "What can I do for you?"

Alex pulled the DVD disc from his pocket and passed it to her.

"It's a video," he said, a tad unnecessarily, "And there's a scene that has a man on it with his face covered by the blur they use to hide people's identities."

Mrs. Davies laughed dryly.

"I am familiar with what you're talking about," she said, "After studying media and photography for five years. So let me guess, you'd like me to try and remove said blur from said man's face?"

Alex nodded, waiting for Michael's Mum to pass judgement on his request.

"Hmm," She looked pensive, weighing the disc in her hand, "I hope this isn't invading anyone's privacy? Not to be used for extortion purposes?"

"No," Alex shook his head quickly, "I think I know the man already, he stopped me from being hit by a car. I just want to make sure it is him."

"He can't just ask the guy because he got him fired awhile back and there's a bit of bad air between them now." Michael supplied helpfully.

Mrs. Davies shot Alex an unfathomable look from her emerald coloured eyes.

"Understandable." She murmured before sighing and slotting the disc into her computer, "Alright, let's have a look at this. I'll see what I can do."

As soon as the video loaded, Mrs. Davies hesitated, a shocked expression crossing her face.

"This is a CCTV video!" She said in surprise, before levelling an immensely suspicious look in Alex's direction, "Where did you get this?"

Alex squirmed for a split-second before an excuse came to mind.

"Um, I know this sounds bad, but I'm sort a really good hacker and…"

Mrs. Davies didn't look one hundred percent convinced; she drummed her manicured nails against her desk thoughtfully.

"Alright then…Let me just double check here that you are not invading anyone's privacy here? You're using this purely to see if this man is the one you should thank for saving your life?"

Alex nodded and tried to look as innocent as possible. Due to having to tell a lot of lies over the last year or so, he pulled the expression off with surprising skill and ease. Mrs. Davies looked a little less tense and began typing into her computer.

"I'll trust you on this one," she muttered, "Just a warning though, the software I'm going to try and download isn't strictly legal and it takes a good twenty minutes to upload to my system. I suggest you boys make yourself comfortable."

* * *

Mrs. Jones was sitting at her desk, trying to figure out exactly what she was going to say to Blunt by way of explanation when there was a frantic knock at her office door. Thinking sullenly that this day couldn't really get any worse, she called out for them to come in.

It was a skinny, brown haired man by the name of Henry LaGrise. He was one of her tech people, also a friend of Smithers'. Mrs. Jones frowned at him.

"Yes?" She was in too bad a mood to bother with niceties.

"We just got a hit on one of our remotely traceable web lures," He said, speaking computer nerd like no other, "We did a search along the IP address…It's coming from a computer belong to a woman named Marylyn Davies, a famous photojournalist. She's trying to download one of our photo editing programs."

Mrs. Jones resisted the urge to sigh.

"And this is a problem for me because?"

Henry looked Mrs. Jones in the eye.

"Mrs. Davies' son, Michael Davies is one of Alex Rider's best school friends. Knowing this, I took the liberty of investigating a little further. Alex's school has reported both Alex and Michael truant as of this lunchtime; Michael often goes to his Mother's office during school hours."

Slowly starting to realise the chance she was being presented with, Mrs. Jones started double checking everything. She couldn't afford to miss this chance to grab Alex; not if she wanted to avoid Alan Blunt's wrath.

"Did you check to make sure they were with Mrs. Davies?"

Henry nodded.

"Yes. The office's receptionist reported letting both Michael and a boy that meets Alex's description up to see Marylyn."

Mrs. Jones thought about it. They'd done a search of the security booth Alex had been hiding in and found one CCTV disc missing. Mrs. Jones hadn't known exactly what was on it herself, but she had a good guess and besides, Blunt had demanded she recover it immediately. That was indication enough that this was important.

"Alright," she said aloud, "Here's what I want you to do…"

* * *

**As you may (or may not have) guessed, this story is meant to be sort of like a TV show, with episodes and stuff...I dunno how well I did at emphasising that though...**

**Anyway, tell me what you think :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**I really enjoyed writing this chapter, especially the scene in the Tube station... I hope you guys like it too!!**

* * *

**Chapter Four, Unsteady Beginnings**

"Michael, Alex, come over here."

Alex looked up from where he'd been playing blackjack using a well-worn pack of cards found in the bottom of his bag and a pocketful of small change. He was losing, badly. Whilst Michael seemed nice and gentle, he was a mean card shark. He was more then happy to leave the game and go to Mrs. Davies' desk.

She'd managed to download the photo editing software and was now opening the video in another window.

"When should I fast forward it to?"

Alex shrugged.

"I'll tell you when to stop." He watched closely as the CCTV footage sped up. "There!"

It was a slightly different shot to the one Alex had seen in the Royal and General, but this one had an even better angle of his 'mystery' saviour's face. From what Alex could tell, the man was looking more or less right at the CCTV camera.

"Okay, watch this." Mrs. Davies muttered, already absorbed by the task at hand, "You two might actually learn something…"

Using the software she'd downloaded, Mrs. Davies saved the frozen scene and opened it in a new window, exiting out of the video file at the same time. She quickly typed a few fast codes into her computer and then dragged a frame around the man's hidden face. She then clicked on a toolbar and selected the option 'rehash/refine'. Immediately, the window changed so that it showed a blown up version of the selected area only. The image began to dissolve and change, but at too slow a pace for Alex to make sense of.

"I put another disc in so you'd have another copy of this," Mrs. Davies explained, "SO it's going to take a little longer then normal…Maybe even longer then what I expect if the original coding on the CCTV blurring was especially complicated…"

Alex just shrugged; he didn't get computers and Mrs. Davies may as well be talking a different language to him. He went back to losing at blackjack with Michael. After ten minutes or so, the phone on Mrs. Davies' desk began to ring. Alex glanced at it.

"Leave it," Mrs. Davies muttered, "I need to keep an eye on this, in case there's a hidden virus my system didn't pick up… It's probably nothing important anyway."

Alex shrugged and went back to his card game.

* * *

"I'm sorry gentlemen," Troy nervously told the four large men standing by his desk, all of whom were armed and wearing Kevlar, "She's not answering her phone. Perhaps you can come back another time?"

The biggest man, a positive giant at six foot seven, grinned and shook his head.

"No, that's alright. We'll just pay her a surprise visit."

Troy frowned at them.

"But she's obviously busy and-"

He stopped when he had an ID shoved into his face. MI5, London Branch.

"Oh…"

"Yeah, exactly," The man responded, "Now we're going up there to pay Mrs. Davies a little visit. I'm going to leave my associate, Brad, down here with you, to make sure you don't do anything foolish. Okay?"

Troy looked pale, but he nodded nevertheless.

"Absolutely."

* * *

"Almost," Mrs. Davies muttered with Alex hanging over her shoulder, "It's almost there…"

The image on screen was still very rough, but patches were clearing up. Alex felt unease and impatience stir uncomfortably in his gut; he thought that maybe he was starting to recognise this face.

Just then, the phone rang again. Mrs. Davies looked at it desperately, obviously unhappy about not replying. Eventually, she gave in, putting it on speaker phone.

"Yes?"

"Marylyn, there's-" Alex recognised the voice as Troy, the receptionist's. There was a muffled cry and a thump before the phone line disconnected. For a second, there was a horrified silence. Then, Alex sprung to action.

"Okay, I need to go," He said, "Just give me the copied disc."

"But it's not finished!" Mrs. Davies had leapt to her feet, looking confused and frightened, "What's going on?!"

Alex just shook his head and without arguing further, pulled the copied disc out of the computer.

"Look, here's my advice: erase everything on this computer. _Everything_. Now I need to go, is there a way I can get downstairs without being seen?"

"But…" Mrs. Davies looked terrified, but Michael at least understood the desperation in Alex's voice.

"Mum, do as Alex says!" He begged her, before leading Alex out of the room and down the hall. Their feet pounded on the highly polished granite floor as they sprinted away from the office.

"There's a fire escape just out that window," Michael said, as they rounded a corner, pointing, "Now I've got to get back and help my Mum deal with whoever's coming. They won't hurt us, will they?"

Alex looked grim and started climbing out the window.

"They shouldn't do. I hope not…"

Then, he disappeared from view down the fire escape.

* * *

Marylyn Davies was halfway through deleting everything on her computer when her office door suddenly crashed open and a very large, armed man came bounding through the opening.

"Get away from that!" He roared, levelling his handgun at her, "And get on the ground now!"

Screaming in terror, Mrs. Davies did as she was told, throwing herself on the ground. At that exact moment, another very large, armed man came into the office, holding Michael by the arm.

"Mum!" He yelled, trying to break free to get to her, "Are you alright?"

"He's this one's son," The second man explained, "I caught him running up here. He won't say anything about Rider."

"I don't know who you're talking about!" Michael shouted at his captor, "I don't know any Riders!"

The first man quickly stooped down to pull Mrs. Davies to her feet and pass her out to a third man in the hallway before rounding on Michael.

"Don't lie brat!" He growled, "We _know_ that you and Rider are best mates and we _know_ he came here with you today! Tell us where he is!"

Michael then had a brainwave and began to sob. Or at least, he pretended to. Michael had a gift for acting; he was near impossible to doubt when he really set his mind to a role.

"I d-don't know!" He cried, "H-he ran off before you g-guys came h-here! H-he didn't even w-wait for the s-stupid d-disc to f-finish loading!"

As Michael had guessed, it wasn't Alex the men were interested in, it was the disc. Hopefully, if they did a scan of the hard drive, they wouldn't see that a copy had been made. It all relied on how much material his mum had managed to delete before being caught.

"Okay lad," The man was suddenly playing 'good cop', much to Michael disgust, "Easy there. We didn't mean to scare you. How about you just show us what you three were doing with the disc, hey?"

Michael didn't stop acting; he gave a sniffle and looked between the man and his Mum's computer uneasily.

"I don't know if I'm allowed," he said in a small voice, "I don't want my Mum to be mad at me!"

"Not a worry," the man winked at him, "It'll just be our little secret."

"Okay," Michael injected just the right note of uncertainty into his voice as moved over to the computer. His captor leaned over him, "But I'm not as good with computers as my Mum is and she won't help you."

"Again, not to worry," The man's patience was already running thin, "Just show us what you were doing."

Michael nodded sullenly, and bent down, as if to remove the disc from the computer. However, relying on his natural speed, he lashed out instead, ripping the man's gun away. Taken completely by surprise by what he'd deemed a 'soft case', the MI5 man didn't have time to yell for help before Michael took his gun and shot his Mum's computer several times. Sparks flew from the gutted machinery, the monitor flashed blindingly once before dying.

"Little brat!" The man was livid and shouting at him, "Now you're in for it!"

The man lunged for Michael, but Michael promptly levelled the stolen gun at him. The man stopped, uncertain if Michael would actually shoot him. Already, Michael was acting again. He did his best look cold and menacing.

"Stop right there or I'll shoot you in the face!" He screamed.

The man opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, one of his team-mates came crashing into the room, drawn by the yelling. Before Michael had time to react, he heard a shot and felt a blinding, terrible pain in his leg. He crumpled to the ground without a single word.

'_The bastards shot me in the leg!' _He thought indignantly, before happily passing out from shock and pain.

* * *

Once he was safely away from Mrs. Davies' office, Alex headed for a pay-phone. Ideally, he would have liked to start on his way home and just call Jack on his mobile, but his mobile had been broken when he'd nearly been run over.

Feeding a few coins into the heavily graffiti covered machine (_Ben says go screw yourself…Cassie loves Denny_), Alex dialled his home number and waited.

"Hello?"

"Hey Jack, it's Alex." He waited for the explosion. It came very quickly.

"Alex! Where the hell are you?! I had the school call me to say you skipped during lunch!" Jack sounded livid.

"Um, I did sort of skip school, but I was seeing a friend's Mum," Alex said, "But I had to leave…Some unwanted visitors showed and, well…" He trailed off, noting Jack's icily furious silence.

"Alex, Mrs. Jones called me and said you stole something from the Royal and General," Jack said in a dangerously calm voice, "And that she was sending MI5 agents after you…Would you care to explain what's going on?"

Alex loved Jack, but he realised this was something he couldn't let her in on.

"Yeah, I did steal something, a disc," he admitted, trying to sound dejected, "but MI5 showed up before I could do anything with it…They will have got it back now and I figured I should call you to say I'm coming home."

Jack still didn't sound happy, but she at least calmed down at the mention of Alex coming home.

"Alright," she sighed, "But you know I'm still pissed off at you, right?"

Alex smiled, knowing Jack wasn't really, that she'd just been worried about him.

"Of course," he assured her, "And Jack?"

"Yes?"

Alex paused, feeling sentimental suddenly, "Love you."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack sounded like she was grinning too now, "Just get back home safely."

"Will do."

* * *

"What was on the disc anyway?" Jack asked, ruining any chance Alex had of watching his movie peacefully, "I mean, why would you steal it and then take it a woman you don't even know?"

Alex groaned as he missed an important scene. He tried to look around Jack's figure to see what Jason Bourne was doing now, but was thwarted as Jack accordingly moved to block the view of the crucial New York chase scene.

"Jack!" Alex whined, taunted by the sounds of screeching brakes, wailing sirens and gunshots, "Jack _please_!"

Looking irritated, Jack turned around and pulled the remote off of the DVD player. She paused the movie and turned back to Alex.

"There, now you can't complain." She growled, "Now please just tell me what was on the disc you stole!"

"I told you, it was photos of my Dad and Uncle Ian," Alex growled back at her, "But he disc was all coded and Michael's Mum is a photographer or something, so I thought that she might be able to fix it up for me to see!"

Jack glared at him, crossing her arms across her chest.

"If that's the case, then why would Mrs. Jones make such a big deal out of you taking it?" She demanded angrily, "Wouldn't she just let you keep it?"

Alex shrugged sullenly and refused to meet Jack's eye.

"I dunno," He grunted, "She's a weird bitch I guess. I just want to watch my movie!"

Jack looked totally unconvinced, but she knew that if Alex was refusing to talk, she wouldn't be able to get anything out of him.

"Oh fine," She huffed, "But you're not having your movie back on. We're watching the news."

Alex was tempted to whine some more, but promptly shut his mouth when he saw the news headline.

"_And in breaking news today, celebrity photojournalist Marylyn Davies was taken into custody today alongside her fourteen year old son, Michael, by MI5 London Branch Officials. No reason for the arrest has been given publicly as of yet, but an inside source has supplied information that they were searching for an encrypted disc containing CCTV footage, believed to have been in their possession. No one was killed in the arrest, although fourteen year old Michael is believed to have been shot in the leg after stealing a gun…" _

Alex turned the TV off, feeling shock grip him. They'd arrested Mrs. Davies! Worse yet, Michael had been shot because of him! And for what? A half blurry computer image that Alex hadn't even looked at yet.

"So that's what you were hiding."

Alex whipped around, seeing Jack standing at the edge of the room with a sad expression on her face.

"You're still looking for Yassen!" She said miserably, "You got the CCTV footage with your accident on it. Oh my God Alex, you let this poor woman and her son, your friend, be arrested for your delusion! You let Michael be shot!"

Alex jumped to his feet, putting his hands up in an attempt to ward off the accusations.

"No!" He cried out, "I didn't know they'd hurt Michael! I was just…I didn't know…"

His excuses and mumbled didn't wash with Jack, she looked increasingly upset as she listened to him.

"Listen to yourself!" She exclaimed, "You sound insane! You're _being_ insane! Alex, Yassen Gregorovich is _dead_! You are chasing a _dead_ man! Why can't you just _understand_ that?!"

"Because I know I'm _right_ Jack!" Alex yelled at Jack, clenching his fists, "I don't care what you say, what MI6 says, I know he's _not_ dead! I _know_ it was Yassen that saved me from that car! I didn't mean for Michael to get hurt, but I'm not going to stop this until I find out what's going on!"

Jack looked taken aback by Alex's vehemence. Then, after a minute or so, she just shook her head and walked away, leaving Alex bewildered and angry in the silent living room.

* * *

Alex skipped dinner, choosing to go up to his room and load the copied disc onto his computer instead. He stayed seated at the computer for nearly two hours, trying to make sense of the half refined image. It could have been Yassen it was looking at, but it could have just as easily been any other fair haired man. Hell, Alex remembered that Snake was blonde, just like a good proportion of the people he new. He laughed bitterly, realising that he wasn't going to get anywhere unless he managed to get the rest of the disc rehashed.

Just then, the new mobile phone that Jack had left on Alex's desk began ringing. Puzzled because he hadn't given anyone his new number yet, Alex answered it.

"Hello?"

"Is this Alex Rider?" The voice was male and American, very strongly so. Alex wasn't to know it, but it had a Boston accent.

"Yeah…Who is this?" Alex frowned at the phone he held up to his ear.

"That doesn't matter," Came the reply, "Not yet anyway. I want you to meet me at the Fulham Broadway Tube station in fifteen minutes. Can you do that?"

"Excuse me, but _who_ is this?" Alex demanded, "How did you get my number?"

"Look, can you make it or not?" The voice demanded, "I can't stay on this line for long, it's very easy for the wrong people to trace it. Mrs. Jones for instance…"

That one threw Alex.

"You know about MI6?"

"Of course!" The voice was sounding very stressed now, "Now are you going to be there?"

Inwardly groaning at his own foolishness, Alex agreed.

"Yeah, fifteen minutes, Fulham Broadway."

There was no reply, the American had hung up.

* * *

Alex decided in the end not to let Jack know he was going out. Instead, he left a note on his desk in case something should happen to him, and snuck out the front door with his phone in his pocket and his wallet (containing enough money for a taxi to the station and back, but also his Tube card in case there weren't any cabs) and a jumper in a small backpack.

It was a simple enough task to get a cab to the Fulham Broadway station, but once there, Alex hesitated. He had no idea what he was meant to do from this point on; the American man had never told him where to meet. He didn't even know what this man's name and intentions were.

In the end, Alex just took a seat on the station itself. It was getting on in the night and there were few people around. The nearest person was a young woman with dreadlocks who looked like a backpacker. She was several metres further along the platform, ignoring Alex as she dozed.

After awhile, Alex had to resist the urge to drift off himself. The quiet station was not especially comfortable, but the temptation to sleep was a strong one…

"Rider?"

Alex jerked himself to full consciousness and looked up. A tall man wearing a dark greatcoat and scarf that was carefully tucked underneath the coat's lapel regarded him sardonically; a lit cigarette perched between hard-edged lips. He had dark grey-green eyes framed by long, dark lashes and short brown hair. It was hard to get an idea of the shape of his face; the scarf covered the bottom of his chin and he his coat's collar pulled up to hide the sides of his face. All in all, only his eyes, mouth and hair really stood out in the dim station.

"Yeah..." Alex stood, trying not to look vulnerable or poorly prepared, "Who're you?"

The man shrugged, not bothering to answer as at that moment, a train came rushing by. It would have drowned out anything he'd said. The man's greatcoat whipped around his legs and pulled at the edges of his scarf.

"My name's Ray Dunne," He said once the train was gone. He had an American accent, "It's pronounced 'dune', not 'dun'. I'm the one who called you."

"I gathered that," Alex replied a little hostilely. He wasn't sure why, but something about this man was putting him on edge. "What do you want?"

The man smiled at him, taking his cigarette out briefly to exhale a plume of smoke.

"Simple. I'm telling you to stop looking for Yassen Gregorovich. Notice I say 'telling you' and not 'asking you'? The man's dead, leave the matter alone."

Alex frowned at Ray Dunne.

"How would you know he's dead?" He demanded, "Just who the hell are you?"

Again, the man smiled at him. It wasn't an especially comforting gesture; there was something cold and nasty in it.

"I know he's dead because I helped get rid of the body," He replied calmly, "And as for who I am… Well, that depends on you. Do as I say, we're best friends. Don't cooperate however…"

"You're my enemy," Alex finished in a disgruntled mutter, "I get it."

Ray's lips twisted up into another smile, this one a little mocking.

"Of course you do," He said in a falsely friendly voice, "You're a bright boy Alex, you know to let sleeping dogs lie."

Alex didn't say anything and Ray was just turning to leave when Alex called him back.

"Just for the sake of 'what ifs'," Alex asked, "What happens if I don't listen to your warning and I keep looking for Yassen Gregorovich?"

Ray Dunne didn't bother smiling this time; he regarded Alex coldly and menacingly.

"Then I have a friend pay you and Jack a visit and make sure _you understand my message_. I'm sure even you, the ever stubborn Alex Rider, can appreciate that warning at least."

Then, without another word, Ray Dunne quickly strode forward to catch a train that had just pulled in. He smiled at Alex through the window as the train pulled away, leaving Alex alone with crisp packets and other litter swirling around his feet in the after-wind.

* * *

**Who do you think Ray Dunne is?? Believe it or not, you've seen him before, both in this story and in the original books!! He was under a different name and appearance however in the books...**

**Anyway, this is probably the last chappie you'll see for a few days...Wish me good luck going without internet!! I love all of you guys (so long as you review for me of course, winkwink)**

**TTFN from vampassassin**


	5. Chapter 5

**I quite liked this chapter because I thought that the way in which Alex tracked down Ray Dunne and watched him was quite realistic. Feel free to disagree with me though :P Anyway, I'm just glad I had time post this today...**

* * *

**Chapter Five, Observation Point**

By the time Alex got home, Jack was asleep on the cough. She'd stuck a note on the TV screen that was showing an Eastenders rerun turned on mute. Alex reached over, trying not to wake Jack up, and pulled the note off the screen.

_Dinner's in the fridge if you want it. I don't want to know where you went, do I?_

"Probably not," Alex muttered to himself before finding the remote control and switching the TV off. After that, he managed to find a blanket in one of the downstairs cupboards and tuck it around Jack. He felt bad for the way he'd yelled at her before; at least this way he was showing he still cared about her.

Walking into the kitchen, Alex opened the fridge and had a look inside. There was a plate of Tortellini and Peas with plastic over it sitting on the top shelf. Suddenly ravenous, Alex quickly pulled it out and stuck it in the microwave, taking the plastic off first. As he sat waiting at the breakfast bar, he heard Jack stir in the lounge room.

"Alex?" She sounded sleepy, which was fair enough considering he'd probably woken her up. Alex took his food out of the microwave, picked up a fork and walked back out to the lounge room.

"Hey." Alex smiled faintly at Jack, trying to look repentant for his earlier behaviour. Jack sat us blearily, holding the blanket tightly around her. It was a cold night and Alex hadn't turned on the heating yet.

"Hey," Jack replied, yawning widely whilst Alex sat in a nearby armchair and began to wolf his food down, "When did you get back?"

"Just now." Alex replied, "Thanks for dinner."

Jack shrugged.

"Thanks for the blanket…I didn't mean to fall asleep here, I just thought I'd close my eyes for just a second…"

Alex smiled and went back to eating whilst Jack went back to dozing on the couch. After awhile, something occurred to Alex.

"Hey, do you know anyone named 'Ray Dunne'?" He asked, putting his fork down. Jack turned to look at him, brow creasing in a frown.

"No…" She thought about it, "What's he look like?"

"Tall, brown hair, greenish grey eyes… He's American; I thought you might know him." Alex shrugged and went back to eating.

"Alex, there are 300 million people in the US," Jack said dryly, "So the fact that this 'Ray' guy is American is not enough to guarantee I'd know him. Why do you ask anyway?"

Alex hesitated; he didn't want to worry Jack about this man. However, things were already speeding up beyond his control; Michael had been shot, his Mum arrested, this guy was making threats against both him and Jack and top it all off, Yassen Gregorovich may or may not have been strolling around Greater London, casually saving kids from being run over. He figured Jack should get at least some warning that strange things were going on.

"Um, he knew my name and mobile number," Alex said, carefully gauging Jacks' expression, "He knew your name too."

Jack had gone very still, but Alex saw her eyes flickering around the room fearfully, as if expecting Ray Dunne to suddenly materialise behind a chair or coffee table.

"He…He knew all that?"

Alex nodded slowly, suddenly thinking that perhaps this hadn't have been such a good idea.

"Um yeah…He knew Mrs. Jones and MI6 too though, so he's probably one of them, or even MI5…"

Alex felt bad seeing how easily his quickly invented excuse cleared Jack's expression, but he knew he was doing the right thing; Jack didn't need to have the same fears and nightmares he did. He wasn't going to be the one to put danger into her life.

"Yes, that's probably it," Jack was yawning again, already falling back to sleep, "Alright Alex, goodnight. Make sure you go to school tomorrow."

Feeling bad about it, Alex nodded but again, hid his crossed fingers behind his back.

* * *

The next morning, Alex got up at his alarm, got dressed in his school uniform and had breakfast. Then, he walked out the front door, yelling a goodbye to Jack. As far as she knew, Alex Rider was going to school. Fifteen minutes after he left, she did as well, heading out for a movie and lunch with a friend. As soon she was out of sight, Alex quickly snuck back into the house.

As soon as he'd let himself back into the house, Alex bolted up to his room and quickly changed from his all too conspicuous school uniform into a pair of cargo pants and a grey baggy hooded jumper. He then double checked the contents of his backpack before turning on his computer and pulling out his mobile phone. He'd had an idea last night on how to track this 'Ray Dunne'.

Scrolling through the 'missed calls' list on his phone (it wasn't hard, he'd only had one call), Alex found Ray Dunne's mobile number. He then opened an internet search engine and typed in 'mobile phone locator'.

It took an hour and a half, but eventually Alex found what he was looking for: a website that used satellite GPS tracking to trace mobile phone numbers. It was designed for overly protective parents to trace their kid's mobile phones. There was a thirty pound registration fee, but Alex happened to know all of Jack's credit card details. He registered quickly; register Ray Dunne's mobile phone number. To his surprise, it actually worked, turning up a Notting Hill address.

"Awesome…" Alex muttered before quickly erasing his internet history and turning the computer off. He wrote the address down on a scrap of paper before he could forget it, picked up his bag and left the house.

* * *

Catching the Tube to Notting Hill, Alex emerged onto the Westbourne Park station. Painfully aware of the number of CCTV cameras in not only London, but especially in places like Tub stations, he slipped on a pair of sunglasses and pulled the hood of his jumper up. Fortunately, it was a cold, sunny day so he didn't look out of place.

Quickly walking away from the station and keeping his head down (Alex knew his identity was protected somewhat by the hood and glasses, but enough of his face was revealed for him to worry about face recognition software in the cameras), Alex slipped the scrap of paper out of his pocket and took a quick glance. 17 Saint Luke's Mews. Only a short walk from where he was now.

As he walked onto Saint Luke's, Alex began to formulate a plan in his head. He'd already had a few rough details ready last night, when he'd lain in bed awake for hours, but now he was really starting to put things together. The first step was pretty simple: see if anyone was home.

Alex stood with his head low until a kid of around seven or eight came walking by with a Labrador puppy on a leash. Alex called him over.

"Hey, want to make fifteen quid?" He asked quietly, shifting a little to make sure he was out of sight of number 17. The kid's eyes widened, he nodded eagerly, long brown hair flopping into his face.

"Yeah!" He gasped, picturing fifteen pounds to bit a fair bit more then what it actually was, "Sure! What do I have to do?"

Alex smiled encouragingly at the small boy and pointed to the house in question.

"You see number 17 there?"

"Yep," The boy nodded again, big brown eyes serious.

"Well, I want you to go up to that house, knock on the door and when the person comes to answer you, ask them if they've seen your dog."

The boy frowned, his mind a little hesitant over the obvious problem with that.

"Lucky's right here." He pointed to the small, sleepy looking puppy he had on the leash. Alex nodded and spread his hands out reassuringly.

"Yeah, we're only pretending though. I'll take care of Lucky, hiding behind this car here and you go pretend like you're missing your dog. Only you can't let the man who answers you know that I'm nearby, okay?"

The boy considered the request with an innocence that only young children have.

"So it's like a game then?"

Alex nodded again.

"Yeah, one that you get paid for playing. So do you think you can do this for me?"

The boy was nibbling on his lip now and looking excited.

"You promise you'll stay right here? You won't steal Lucky?"

Alex looked at the boy solemnly.

"I promise. Now off you go."

The boy grinned, already turning his mind back to the fifteen pounds. Without another word, he quickly trotted up the road whilst Alex crouched behind a nearby parked car, holding the Labrador puppy under his arm.

* * *

Tim's Mum had always told him not to speak to strangers, but this boy was really nice and besides, he was going to give him _fifteen whole pounds_! Not to mention he was a kid too, so he couldn't be mean or a kidnapper or nothing.

Tim, smart for a seven year old, had one flaw though: he was as naive as they came. He hadn't thought about whether the man he was supposed to be talking to counted as a stranger.

The door's bell was a little bit too high for Tim to reach, so he knocked instead. His little fists didn't seem to make much noise against the sturdy wood door, so he yelled out as well. To his credit, he was playing his part excellently; not even glancing down the road to give Alex's position away.

"Hello?"

Tim waited when he heard footsteps on polished boards inside the house. He knew the sound, he had a floor like that at home and his Mummy didn't like him to let Lucky on it because his little puppy claws scratched the wood apparently.

Tim's train of thought was interrupted as the door suddenly opened.

Alex's heart leapt up as the door was opened. It sunk back down to the right level quickly however; whoever was inside the house had only opened the door a little. Alex could just see the faint outline of a man inside the house. He couldn't see the man's face or hair, but he did see that the man was wearing an expensive looking black bomber jacket.

* * *

Alex peered frantically at the indistinct man as Tim began to speak.

* * *

Tim was scared of the man, he looked mean. He wore expensive clothing like his Daddy, but Tim knew that his daddy would never turn such a cold, unfriendly expression in is direction.

"What?" The man was keeping well back from the door, in a dimly lit hallway, but Tim thought that maybe he had dark brown hair with lighter streaks. Like when his sister Freddie accidentally gave herself a bad hair dye job.

"Um, h-have you s-seen my dog?" Tim stuttered when he got nervous, and this was definitely making him nervous, "His n-name is L-Lucky and he's a-"

"I haven't seen your dog," The man said, not as nastily but still quite obviously trying to get rid of Tim, "Go home."

"B-but I-" Tim didn't have chance to finish however, the man had shut the door in his face and he heard the distinct noise of a lock being slid into place. A little worried he hadn't done his job properly; Tim stumbled over his feet in an effort to hurry back to Alex.

* * *

"S-s'cuse me?" Tim peered around the car uneasily, "You still there?"

Alex sat up, passing Lucky back over.

"Yep, you did well," He told the small boy, "I got everything I needed."

Tim beamed and as Alex passed over his 'pay', he frowned.

"Hey, you gave me too much!" He declared with an admirable honesty, "You gave me twenty!"

Alex smiled, inwardly hoping the boy's Mother wouldn't hassle him over the money.

"Keep it; you did an extra good job."

Alex was gratified to see Tim's happy expression as he ran off, dragging Lucky along. Once the boy was safely gone, Alex considered what he knew.

One, Ray Dunne's mobile was supposed to be at this location. Two, a man that could have been Ray had answered the door. The problem was, it was only a 'could have'; Alex hadn't been able to see the man's features. Not to mention there could be other people in the house.

Alex frowned at that thought and turned to point three. Point three; he can see a narrow lane that was bordered by one of the walls of the house. Alex figured he could sneak down that lane and hope that there was a window he could peer through to get a better idea of the house's interior.

However, something happened at that moment that completely changed Alex's plans. A man came out of the front door. He was wearing aviator sunglasses, but the black, hooded bomber jacket gave him away. It was the same man who's answered Tim at the door. The man quickly locked his front door before leaving in a BMW he had parked outside the house. Alex knew then that the man was alone in the house; you don't lock the door if there's someone else in there.

Absolutely thrilled by the opportunity he was being presented with here, Alex waited a moment or two to make sure he hadn't missed anything before slipping out from behind the car and hurrying down the narrow lane. As he'd hoped, there was a small window and a sort of side door that led from the alley into the house. As was to be expected, both were locked. Fortunately however, Alex had come prepared.

Staying hidden from the street by crouching behind a couple of garbage bins, Alex opened up his bag. The first thing he did was take out a pair of gloves. He slipped them on. The last thing he wanted to do was to leave fingerprints for anyone to find. Then, he also pulled out a dark grey ski cap and put that on too, careful to cover his hair. He didn't know what sort of resources the man he was going up against might have, but the less DNA evidence and fingerprints he left behind, the better.

Once his hands and hair were safely covered, Alex produced a belt from his bag. Originally, he'd been meant to use it in his Snakehead mission, but Ash's thieving and treacherous ways had put a stop to that. However, Smithers had felt bad that Alex had never had a chance to use such a useful invention, so he'd secretly provided Alex with a new one, complete with hidden blade.

Very carefully, Alex used the blade in the belt to slice a small circle into the glass on the door. Putting the belt back in his bag, Alex used one of his gloved hands to put the circle out and the other to catch it before it fell and shattered against the floor. He gently placed the portion of glass in his bag and reached into the hole where it had just been and unlocked the door from the inside.

The door swung open silently, a temptation to explore inside.

"And who am I to resist?" Alex murmured before walking inside and closing and locking the door behind him.

* * *

The inside of the house was a little small, but decorated in a modern and tasteful style. Everything was fairly clean, but in a lived-in sort of way; there were dishes drying by the sink and a laptop (Alex ignored it as it was sure to be password protected) and papers left on the kitchen table. There was a half finished cup of coffee sitting with a coaster underneath.

Alex raised a brow. Ray Dunne, a man who made casual threats against fourteen year old boys and their guardians, used coasters?

Slightly bemused, Alex pushed that thought aside and looked at the papers. To his surprise, and growing confusion, they were personnel files. MI6 personnel files, to be precise.

Alex saw his photo on the top folder and knew that whoever this man was, he had managed to get his hands on a lot of Top Secret MI6 material. On a whim, Alex flicked open his own file. Most of what was there he'd expected, but one thing caught his attention.

**Family:**

-Father (**see 'John Rider')** (deceased)

-Mother (deceased)

-Uncle (**See 'Ian Rider'**) (deceased)

-Godfather (**see 'Ash' and 'Snakehead'**) (deceased)

-Godfather **(file currently open. See MI6 restrictions placed) **(ACTIVE)

Alex's breath came out in a strangled gasp. He had _another_ Godfather? He'd never been told! He'd always presumed that when Ash had died, so had the last trace of his family…

Alex's eyes fell on the words that followed the second notation under 'Godfather'. File currently open. See MI6 restrictions placed…What did all of that mean? Did it mean his Godfather was under some sort of limitations placed by MI6? Was that why Alex had never been told? Alex looked at the word ACTIVE with a painful feeling. Whoever this man was, he was alive and no one had, including the man himself, had bothered to tell him.

Shaking himself and realising that he probably didn't have much time to look around left, Alex pushed his file aside and began flicking through the others. There was one on several old missions, from before Alex was born…More recent ones such as a 1990 one in Germany and even some short notes on Alex's missions…Then; another personnel file caught his attention.

It was under the name 'Yassen Gregorovich'. Ray Dunne was interested in Yassen too…

But _why_? Was Ray Dunne suspicious that he was missing something because Alex was suddenly showing an interest in the Russian? Was that why he was looking through old, Top Secret files he shouldn't have had? With trembling fingers, Alex opened the file and began to scan through quickly.

* * *

Ray Dunne had barely left his home when something in his pocket began buzzing. Frowning, he took out what looked like the sort of key ring buttons that go with cars to unlock the doors and such. However, there was only one button, marked 'reset' and a light, which was currently flashing.

"Shit." He muttered to himself. The buzzing and flashing was because this small gadget was connected to the system of locks in all of his house's doors and windows. Whenever he left the house, he turned on this alarm system so that if anything was unlocked whilst he was gone, he'd know about it.

Muttering both English and foreign curses under his breath, Ray Dunne spun his car around (drawing large amounts of hostility from other drivers on the road) and sped towards home.

* * *

A lot of what was in Yassen's file was just expanded details of what Ash had told Alex previously. Yassen had come from a small but not too badly off family in Estrov. His Mother and Father, Alex had already known about. What he hadn't known about what the younger brother, who disappeared after going out in the woods alone at age seven.

Feeling saddened, Alex kept reading. He'd just gotten to a large section marked 'RECENT ACTIVITY', when there was a small sound: wood rasping and the tiniest sound of a footstep. Heart leaping up to his throat, Alex promptly put all the papers back the way he'd seen them and backed away rapidly from the table. He'd originally meant to just leave by the way he'd arrived, gluing the removed section of glass back into place, but that plane was quickly removed from consideration. Ray was home, and somehow, he'd remotely locked all the doors and windows again.

Alex stayed by the locked door nevertheless, trying to figure out what to do. He could sense Ray approaching, carefully checking every hiding spot as he moved. He knew that if he was caught here, there would be hell to pay. And possibly more. Alex looked around wildly for an escape, heart pounding and pulse racing. In the end, only one option presented itself. It was going to hurt, and it completely destroyed all his efforts to leave no trace of his visit, but that was too bad. Alex just needed to get out.

Acting quickly, Alex reached into his bag and pulled out the ski mask he'd been keeping in there. Pulling it on quickly, Alex readied himself. Directly ahead was a large window that had a drop of about a metre down to the street. Alex was going to have to use it to escape. The only problem being of course, that the window was in the exact same room that Ray Dunne was currently searching. He was going to have to move fast.

Before he could psyche himself out of doing it, Alex bolted straight ahead. He briefly saw Ray Dunne jerk back, nearly run into, and then heard clicking metal. He didn't stop to consider it though; he only had one option here. Alex jumped side first. He prayed Ray's windows were made of safety glass.

Luck was on his side; the window shattered at the impact of Alex crashing through it. Shutting his eyes so no glass would get in them, Alex fell to the ground on the other side. Not wasting any time, he jumped back to his feet and took off again down the street. To his shock, he heard muffled thumps and saw bullets crash through the windows of nearby cars.

'_He's shooting at me!'_

That one lent Alex the desperation he needed to put an extra burst of speed and get the hell out of there. Ray Dunne stood in his shattered window, watching Alex go. Once the boy was out of range, the man turned away shaking his head. He needed to reload his dart gun.

As soon as he was sure he was out of range of Ray's gun, Alex quickly ripped off his mask and stuffed them into his bag. The last thing he needed was some civilian calling the police on him because he looked like a robber. Trying to fix his 'hat hair', Alex let out a shuddering breath, tried to calm the frantic beating of his heart and then shakily headed back towards the Tube.

On the train, Alex realised that the school would have called Jack because he was absent again. Wincing, Alex got off at his home stop and headed towards a nearby shop. Maybe he could try to lessen the imminent fury with an expensive box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers? Alex didn't know if it would work, but he figured anything at this point was worth a try.

As he browsed through the shop, searching for Jack's favourite chocolates (Turkish Delight), his new phone rang. Alex began to panic, thinking it would be Ray Dunne again. Then, he saw the number on the caller ID screen. Home. Jack was calling. With a relieved sigh, he answered.

"Hey Jack."

"Alex," Jack sounded worried or stressed. It was hard to tell which. "The school called me again…Where are you?"

"I'm actually on my way home now," Alex said, walking to the counter to pay for his purchases, "I'll be back soon."

"Alright, but hurry up." Jack hung up, leaving Alex frowning at the phone. She must have really been upset with him, she'd sounded sort of ominous.

* * *

**-Cue dramatic music!- So, Alex has another Godfather!! Strange yes, highly unorthodox yes, but you'll find out why this is very soon...Let's just say the second Godfather was appointed on 'in case' basis... Your guesses as to how Ray Dunne, Yassen Gregorovich, MI6 and Alex's mystery 'second Godfather' are all connected are very welcome! I look forward to seeing lots of theories and questions when I get back from holidays...**

**Adieu!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sadly, we're getting close to the end of this story. There's a few more chapters, and then that's it amigos, 'tis all over. However, the next few chapters are when things really come to light and all this mystery really gets revealed. The last chapter especially will tie things up nicely. But for now, just enjoy this chapter. It's rather short and not much happens, but Alex does something crucial that's going to prove helpful in the next chapter...**

* * *

**Chapter Six, Last Chance**

As Alex walked down the street to his house, he noticed a dark blue car parked on the kerb. He groaned, he must have forgotten that he and Jack were meant to be having guests today. That was why Jack had been so upset at him on the phone.

Alex let himself into the house, juggling the box of chocolates, flowers and house keys. Part of Alex's mind suggested dryly that it would have more sense to put the chocolates at least in his bag, so he'd had fewer things to carry around.

"Jack, I'm home!" He called out, hoping he wasn't interrupting any conversations she was having with guests.

"I'm in the living room." Jack sounded subdued. Alex wondered if she was more upset then he'd realised. He walked out to see her, arranging a wholly repentant and humble expression on his face as befitted his circumstances.

"Jack, I'm sorry-" He stopped halfway through his carefully planned apology, the scene in front of him registering for the first time.

There were two men. One of them was holding Jack by her handcuffed arms, a gun held against the base of her neck. The other was looking at Alex impassively, holding a mobile phone. Both were wearing balaclavas and bullet proof vests. Professional thugs then?

"What do you want?" Alex demanded once he'd gotten over his initial shock and fright, throwing the gifts for Jack on a nearby coffee table, "If it's the disc, I don't have it anymore, I threw it out."

The man holding the phone smiled at him.

"No you didn't; it was upstairs in your computer. We have it now. We're not after the disc however, we're here for you. Remember what Ray Dunne said about looking for Gregorovich?"

Alex swallowed, trying not to meet Jack's frightened gaze. He'd realised that these men were not MI5. That meant they could play by any rules they wanted.

"Yeah…you guys are here to make sure I get the message."

The same man mockingly clapped his hands.

"Bravo Mr. Rider, bravo. You may not have been bright enough to put our boss's friendly warning to good use, but at least you're smart enough to realise that you are thoroughly screwed."

Alex didn't react to the man's derision, choosing to fix him with a hard, unflinching glare instead. He knew that showing the near-panic he was feeling for himself and Jack would only put these men at the advantage.

"And Ray Dunne is your boss then?"

The man smiled again and held out the phone he was holding to Alex.

"And he wants a little word with you."

Slowly, almost unwillingly, Alex took the phone. He put it to his ear and arranged the steadiest voice he could.

"Hello."

Ray sounded different, voice apparently warped a little in his anger. His accent seemed to have lost a great deal of its strength, replaced by a harsh, biting quality to his syllables.

"You're in trouble Alex; a lot of trouble."

"Am I?" Alex asked, surprised himself by the sarcasm he could work up, "I had no idea. I thought the two goons here were just here to look pretty. I was going to say they weren't doing a very good job." Alex was rewarded by the infuriated expressions on the two men's faces.

Ray took awhile to respond and when he did, Alex thought that just maybe he could hear the barest hint of amusement in the man's voice. It was quickly swept away and buried however.

"You've got a smart mouth on you Alex, I don't appreciate it. I'm telling you now, not many other people will either."

Alex winced as another rude answer popped out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"Yeah well, I've been told I'm a bit of an 'acquired taste'. Unfortunately, I'm not interested in earning your approval."

This time, there was no good humour to Ray's reply. When he spoke again, he sounded even more unlike himself.

"See Alex, you just made a rather large mistake. I was thinking of just letting you figure out my lesson for yourself before, but now I'm irritated. Bad things happen to people when I'm irritated."

Despite the melodramatic nature of Ray's words, Alex felt a shudder pass through him. The cold certainty in the man's tone was impossible to doubt.

"What sort of things?" Alex asked, trying to quash the growing horror that was creeping into his voice.

"Put me back on to Derrick." Ray ordered Alex icily. Genuinely scared now, Alex passed the phone back to the man who'd originally given to him. Derrick listened to Ray for a few minutes before muttering a quick affirmative and hanging up. Tucking the phone into his belt, he turned to his friend who was still restraining Jack.

"Got the go-ahead from Dunne." He said, "You know what to do."

The man nodded and began dragging Jack. Panicking, Alex lunged forward.

"No!" He shouted, driving his shoulder into the man's ribs. More surprised then hurt due to the Kevlar vest he wore, the man let go of Jack for a moment. Taking advantage of the gap in the man's defences, Alex pushed Jack away from him and dived in, aiming a kick at the man's shin. Ideally he would have like to kick the man in the torso, but the bullet-proof vest made his torso more or less kick-proof.

Cursing, the man winced and swung his arm at Alex. Dodging under the blow, Alex gritted his teeth and cracked his forehead against the man's nose. The man's nose didn't break, but he shouted in pain and began to level his gun at Alex. Before he could fire though, Derrick appeared.

"Not Rider!" He shouted furiously, "The woman only!"

Horrified, Alex lunged to grab Jack, but before he could manage even three steps, Derrick got a hold on him from behind. Fists clenched in Alex's shirt, he threw Alex to the ground. Feeling his head crack agonisingly against the polished wood floor, Alex was stunned. He could only lie on the ground, seeing stars and trying to cradle his throbbing head, as Jack was dragged away kicking and screaming.

Clenching his teeth and moaning, Alex managed to push himself to his feet after a moment or two. He could hear the two men and Jack in the bathroom; there was the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked and Jack's sobbing. Alex tried to run, but still dizzy and near to blacking out; his feet just couldn't manage it. His feet slid out constantly from underneath him as he stumbled to the bathroom, moaning.

Then, when he was a mere two metres away, came the sound he'd been dreading. Three shots in rapid succession. There was a brief, quickly stifled scream from Jack. Then, a thump. Alex managed to scream Jack's name before all but falling into the bathroom.

On his knees, Alex looked around wildly. Jack was sprawled in front of him, but there was no blood. Not daring to get his hopes up, he looked up at Derrick and the other man. Derrick regarded him blankly, eyes hard and demanding attention. The other man was holstering his gun, the spent bullets not lodged in Jack's body as Alex had feared, but in the roof. Shaking from relief and pain, Alex asked the obvious question.

"W-what did you do?"

Derrick shrugged and motioned for his friend to get ready to leave. He nodded and left the room.

"She got kicked," He said to Alex dispassionately, "She'll regain consciousness soon and with no lasting damage."

Alex breathed out a quiet murmur of relief and Derrick shook his head.

"Do you understand though?" He demanded harshly, "This is the only chance you have left. After this, we'll spare your house and go straight to executions."

Alex felt unshed tears stinging in his eyes.

"Why?" He whispered, "What is Ray hiding? Why does everyone say Yassen Gregorovich is dead?"

Derrick shook his head again, but Alex saw a reluctant sympathy in the man's trouble eyes.

"Just let it go kid," Derrick said seriously, "There's only a world of pain in this direction, just forget about all of this."

"I can't!" Alex rasped, "I can't just ignore what I saw and what I know is true! I need to understand what my friend got shot for, what his Mum got arrested for…What Jack had to go through all of _this_ for!"

Derrick looked guiltily at his phone for a moment, as if expecting Ray Dunne's voice to sound of its own accord, demanding he say nothing. With no such thing occurring, Derrick sighed and crouched next to Alex. Alex wavered briefly, almost collapsing to the ground like Jack, but Derrick steadied him, catching him by the shoulders.

"Okay, listen closely," Derrick said once Alex was steady on his knees again, "Ray wants you to stop what you're doing for a _reason_! He will do everything in his power to make this whole thing disappear; even make _you_ disappear if that's what it takes. Understand me?"

Alex nodded miserably, realising he couldn't push this man any further. Derrick nodded in satisfaction and stood. Looking down on Alex, an awkward expression crossed his face.

"I've got to make sure you can't follow me now, or see which way I go."

Alex winced, knowing what he meant.

"I won't look!"

Derrick shrugged and looked amused now.

"I know you wouldn't, but I've already broken enough orders today, I figure I should at least follow some of them."

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but there was a horrible, engulfing pain and sudden blackness before he could speak. Derrick's blow came so fast that Alex never saw it coming.

* * *

Derrick climbed back into the driver's seat of the car that he and his team mate, Oliver, had come in. Oliver was already waiting for him, singing along to 'Bad to the Bone'. Derrick frowned briefly, thinking it was rather fitting considering the circumstances. Then, he pushed that thought aside and smoothly pulled away from Alex's house and into the main road. After a few minutes, Oliver turned the music down (Derrick was relieved, the loud music had been hurting his head) and looked over at him.

"You took care of the kid?" He had an accent that could have been labelled 'from Dublin with love'.

"Yeah mate," Derrick responded, honking in annoyance at a Citroen driver who pulled out in front of them, "Tyke's out cold. Poor lad, he's gonna have one blinder of a headache when he comes round. I don't just mean physically either, he's gonna have a real headache getting his shit together too. If he doesn't, MI6 are gonna come down on him like a heap of fucking bricks."

* * *

**As always, feel free to tell me what you think :) **

**By the way, has anyone got any guesses how Ray Dunne, Yassen Gregorovich and MI6 are all connected yet?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven, Substantial Threat Four**

**It's been a long time guys, I'm sorry. I think I've been going through an enormous author's crisis lately, in that I have had zero motivation to write anything at all besides poetry, oddly enough. I've been going through a lot of issues (the least of which being that I got three D's on this semester's report card) and had to prioritise. Hopefully, you guys can understand that. I'm going to be back on track now, for this story, 'Stockholm Syndrome' and 'Challenge'. Not sure about 'Kill or Be Killed' yet, I'm seriously giving up on that one =(**

**Anyway, it's nice to be back. Hope you enjoy this quick little update :)

* * *

  
**

As Derrick had predicted, Alex's head felt like it was going to split open as he came round. With a pained groan, he started to try and get up, but was stopped by gentled hands at his shoulders.

"Don't hurt yourself." It was Jack. She sounded frightened still, and more then a little worried. However, it was all nothing compared to the concern in her voice. Concern for Alex.

Opening his eyes with a wince, Alex sat up anyway.

"It's alright," He muttered, leaning forward over his knees, "I just need a moment."

Jack hesitated, hands still hovering uncertainly. Then, she shrugged and pulled away. She sat across from him, shivering a little in the cold room. There was a large bruise already appearing over the left side of her jaw. Alex felt like crying again looking at her.

"Jack," He realised he really was crying again, "Jack, I'm s-so, so sorry…I never dreamed that you or anyone…I didn't want this to happen!"

The reproach and misery that had been growing in Jack's eyes promptly faded away as she hugged Alex tightly.

"It's alright," she sighed, "somehow it'll be alright."

Alex smiled faintly at her before straightening up and rubbing his temples grimacing.

"I hope so," He said before getting unsteadily to his feet. He helped Jack up as well. "Because I don't know how much more of this I can take…I was sure I knew what I was doing, that I was right, but now… I feel like I'm losing it Jack! Every time I think I'm close to finding out what's going on, something bad happens!"

Jack led the way out to the kitchen where she reached into the freezer. She produced two ice trays. Then, she wrapped each one up in a tea towel and passed one to Alex whilst she kept the other to herself. Alex gratefully pressed the instant ice pack against his aching head. Jack pressed hers to her jaw.

"So does this mean you're giving up?" Jack asked, hope flaring in her eyes. Feeling like an asshole, Alex half shrugged. The hope in Jack's eyes died and she looked sad. However, she didn't argue. She figured that if Alex wasn't giving up after something like this, nothing _she_ could say would shake him.

"Derrick had a driver's license sticking out of his pocket," Alex explained slowly. His voice and eyes seemed to be begging Jack to understand, "I pretended like I was going to fall, and he reached over to stop me…I stole his license."

Jack sighed and shrugged.

"You're going to try and use his details to find out what's going on?"

Alex tried to make Jack understand through the expression in his eyes, but he got the feeling she didn't get it. Then he realised, she never would. MI6, Yassen Gregorovich, Scorpia…They'd all changed him so that only people and organisations like them could possibly understand him. With a sigh, Alex just shook his head and walked up to his room.

* * *

Derrick Lind. 49 Redfern Road, Harlesden.

Alex studied the drivers licence in front of him, drumming his fingers against his desk thoughtfully. He had a full name, he had an address. The real question was how to proceed from this point. He knew that the answer to that was _very_ carefully, not thrashing around like before.

He could carefully do a walk-by of Derrick's address, just to get an idea of the person he was. There was no way he'd actually go into Derrick's home, not after what had happened with his invasion of Ray Dunne's house. A quick scan would be enough and maybe if it seemed feasible, Alex figured he'd tail Derrick to see if he led him anywhere important. He just had to stay hidden the entire time.

Alex had no doubt that if he was caught snooping again, the punishment would be worse then a few bruises on his and Jack's faces. Something much more permanent for sure.

The only problem, other then that was how Alex was going to tail Derrick. The man was sure to be trained somehow, whether that be to Intelligence standards, or just a casual glance back over his shoulder every now and then, Alex wasn't sure. Either way, he didn't feel like taking his chances.

Too bad there really weren't any other choices.

* * *

Even in daylight, Alex knew Harlesden was dodgy. He'd read somewhere once that it was nicknamed 'UK murder capital' and 'home of Yardie Gang culture', but even so, he'd still thought a fair bit of it was exaggeration. However, when Alex began to walk down the street, he began to realise just how bad this place was. Something about the group of boys, armed with knives watching him from a nearby stoop, told him that this suburb was bad news. They didn't halt their mission of carving every swear word known to man into the wooden door they sat in front of, but their eyes were hard and speculative as they regarded Alex.

Running on a short fuse, Alex stared back, trying to silently send them a 'piss off and find an easier target' message. He thought maybe they got it when they suddenly turned away from him and went back to doing what they'd been doing previously.

Looking at his surroundings, Alex was struck by how run-down and tired a lot of the buildings seemed. He figured that whatever Derrick did for a living (when he wasn't bashing kids and their guardians that is of course), it wasn't paying well.

* * *

Derrick was driving home to change quickly before going into the 'office', when he suddenly caught sight of the flashing lights in his rear-view mirror. With a sigh, he pulled over and waited. In short order, a young male police officer with black hair was by his window.

"What'd I do?" Derrick was annoyed, but tried to remain polite. His Uncle had been a police officer; he had a healthy respect for the profession accordingly.

"You were going ten k over the posted limit," The policeman (Derrick saw he was wearing a badge: PC Timothy Sullivan) seemed nice enough, if a little unexperienced looking, "So would you mind showing me your licence please?"

Derrick shrugged and dug his hand into his back pocket, where he kept his licence. To his surprise, his hand returned to him empty. Frowning slightly, Derrick quickly checked his other pockets. Still no results. Police Constable Sullivan looked at him, perhaps made uneasy by his slightly frantic search.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, eyes fixed on Derrick's hands.

"Um, yeah…" Derrick was too bothered by the fact his licence was seemingly missing to concern himself with the fact he was probably making the constable worry about being shot, "I just need to remember where I put my damn licence…"

Starting to truly worry now, Derrick ripped open the glove box and rifled quickly through all the stuff in there. Finding no licence there, Derrick gave up and turned to Constable Sullivan who was regarding him awkwardly.

"I don't know how I did it," Derrick said in a voice that suggested he was in slight awe of his own stupidity, "But I've misplaced my licence…"

Constable Sullivan's face cleared instantly; obviously glad that a tense moment had been replaced by the calm certainty of routine. He shrugged and began rattling off a rant probably learned off by heart and practised in front of a mirror.

"That's going to mean a fine for you then," He said, "With up to 6 penalty points and even driving disqualification. I'll write it all out for you."

Derrick scowled and bit back the all too sarcastic 'isn't that kind?' that leapt to the tip of his tongue. In all honesty, he was bewildered. Where the hell had he put his licence? He was wearing the same pants as yesterday, and he hadn't washed them, so he should still have his licence in his pocket. The only possibility that came to mind was that somehow, it'd fallen out of his pocket at home. Shaking his head in mystification, Derrick accepted the slip that Constable Sullivan filled out for him without a word and continued home.

* * *

Alex was sitting in a café opposite Derrick's house when a dark silver Citroen C5 pulled in out the front of the house. Careful to remain partially hidden behind the potted plant he sat by, Alex watched carefully as Derrick got out and, looking harried, disappeared into his house. Once Derrick was out of sight, Alex got up and prepared for what was to come.

* * *

Derrick wasn't a slob, but even so, his heart sank when he saw the untidy mess he had to sort through to search for his licence. True, he could just tell work that he'd lost it and he'd have a replacement in less then 24 hours, but he knew it was irresponsible of him to lose such a crucial document in the first place. He knew his was better then this.

Tearing the main living quarters apart, Derrick began to panic slightly when he realised that his licence was not anywhere to be found in his living room or kitchen. A horrible thought occurred to him. What if it had fallen out of his pocket outside? That would mean anyone could get their hands on it and…

Well, Derrick knew that in a profession such as his, his identity was best kept secret. The idea of someone in organized crime (or worse) getting their hands on his drivers licence was a real worry. In fact, it was a real threat to his very wellbeing. With a heavy heart, Derrick knew he was going to need to go to the 'office' and report this. Sighing, he picked up his car keys again and headed back to the car.

* * *

Whilst Derrick had been in his house, Alex had been preparing. Using some money he'd attained from Jack's wallet (he silently promised to make this up to her sometime), Alex had purchased another mobile phone and used the GPS mobile phone system again so that his phone would be able to track the newly purchased one wherever it went.

So, safe in the knowledge he had a tracking device, Alex had duct-taped the second phone to the bottom of Derrick's car. He used almost a whole roll of the tape, determined to make sure that the phone wouldn't fall off and therefore ruin everything. Once that was done, Alex had quickly returned to the nearby bike rack where he'd locked up his bike. He knew that he wouldn't be able to match a car for speed, but that wasn't the point. Alex could take short cuts and detours a car couldn't with his bike and therefore (hopefully) keep up.

Then, just as Alex was unchaining his bike, Derrick came out of his house. The man looked worried or annoyed by something. Alex waited until Derrick was inside the car and already halfway down the street before climbing onto his bike and following.

* * *

To Alex's surprise, following Derrick did not prove as difficult as he'd expected. Due to the busy London traffic, the man never had an opportunity to go so fast he'd lose Alex. The hardest part of the whole exercise was the endurance aspect of it all; Alex's legs began to ache from pedalling after awhile. His chest ached a little too, but he guessed that was to be expected.

Finally, they turned into an area of London that Alex recognised better. His heart sped up; they were close to the Royal and General Bank. Surely Derrick was not going to-

But he did. To Alex's absolute horror and fury, Derrick pulled up in front of the Royal and General. Without any hesitation, the man got out of his car, locked it behind him, and walked into the building. Alex broke hard on his bike, staring at the spot where Derrick had vanished into the bowels of the 'bank'.

"Perfect," Alex muttered angrily under his breath, "Just fucking perfect!"

Frustrated, he got off his bike and after chaining it up, started off down the road. He knew now he was at a dead-end. All the determination and resourcefulness in the world wouldn't help him here; there was no winning if Derrick and Ray Dunne were MI6.

"This isn't fair." Alex wasn't normally given to talking to himself, but his frustration, anger and misery were too much. He needed an outlet. With a moan, he sat down on a nearby bench and moped. After a moment, a bus came by, stopping to let a few people off. Through the open doors, Alex caught sight of a poster above the driver's head. It was a city-wide security measure taken since the 2005 bus bombings.

'_Keep London Safe! Report all suspicious packages, bags and vehicles to police!'_

Alex's eyes widened as he stared at the poster. He now had an idea. A far-fetched, long shot of an idea, and most certainly a dangerous one, but there was no other way.

Quickly, Alex dialled Jack on his mobile. She answered quickly.

"Alex?" She sounded worried from the first syllable and Alex didn't blame her for it, not after all that had happened. "Are you alright? Has something happened?"

"Jack," Alex licked his lips, measuring his next few words carefully, "I want you to get out of London, now. I think something might happen soon, and I don't want you to get caught in the crossfire. Try and get on a flight or a ferry or something out of the city and preferably even out of the country. Try Ireland or France. Just get out and do it fast."

To her credit, Jack didn't waste time asking questions or arguing. There was a second's hesitation, and then a wary reply.

"I have a cousin in Ireland," Jack said, obviously trying to remain calm, "I know there's a ferry in a few hours. I'll get the first flight I can to Holyhead and take the ferry from there to Dublin. Will you be alright on your own?"

Alex smiled at the care obvious in Jack's voice.

"Yeah, I should be. Just make sure you keep a low profile…Hopefully, everything will turnout alright, and I'm just being paranoid."

"Alex," Jack sounded wearily amused, "With you, there's no such things as paranoia…Just foresight."

"Yeah, maybe." Alex said before hanging up. Sighing, he got to work.

* * *

"Are you getting on?" The bus driver was annoyed at being held up.

Alex watched the young man closely, praying this would work. The man chewed his lip, obviously unfamiliar with the London bus system. This was something Alex intended to take advantage of.

"This bus go to Notting Hill, yes?" He asked, his words falling gingerly from his mouth. The driver nodded and gestured for him to step forward. For a split second, Alex held his breath, watching the man climb onto the bus. Then, he acted.

"He's got a bomb!" He screamed as loud as he could, pointing at the man from where he stood at the bus shelter. "It's in his bag!"

Alex felt absolutely terrible for what he was doing. With the paranoia and hysteria concerning terrorism, there was every chance he was throwing this man to the wolves. He had no other ideas though.

The man spun around to look at him, beginning to speak quickly, panicking. All the passengers misinterpreted this of course and within a matter of seconds, there was chaos. Everyone spilled out of the bus in a pushing, struggling throng. They spread their panic as they went like a virus and before long; the entire street was engulfed in pandemonium.

Alex took a split second to regard the effect he'd had before quickly running into the middle of the street. Mobs swarmed around him, screaming and running in circles. Quickly, he swung his bag off his shoulder (having taken everything in it out already) and threw it under a nearby car.

"Oh my God!" He shouted so loudly his throat hurt, "There's another bomb underneath this car! Everyone run!"

If he'd thought the street had been going nuts moments before, it was nothing to what was happening now. People lost the plot, shoving each other to the ground and climbing over parked cars in an effort to escape. Alex darted through the crowds and into the lane between the Royal and General and the neighbouring building. Seconds later, just as he'd expected, several armed men wearing Kevlar and earpieces came crashing out of the building and into the street, attempting to discover the 'bomb threat'.

Alex didn't stay to watch them. Instead, he turned to the bolted basement door before him. It was a little known entrance to the Royal and General, generally only used by the janitors and maintenance people. Or, in this case, Alex.

Acting quickly lest he be discovered, Alex reached into his pocket and pulled out a strange, moulded piece of metal. It was a shim, a tool for opening padlocks, usually made out of a soft drink can. Alex had made a few of them ages ago so he could get to his bike whenever he forgot his keys. They'd work well in this instance too though.

It took a few precious moments, but Alex eventually opened the lock and got through the door. Closing the steel door behind him, he considered his next move. The room he was in was concrete, cool and dimly lit. There were thick pipes emerging from the walls with another door, almost directly opposite the one Alex just came through.

Trying to act quickly but carefully, Alex quietly shut the door he'd just walked through behind him before casting a glance around the room. He could see no cameras anywhere, so he thought that he had a little extra time. A little less uneasy, Alex crossed the room.

He pulled on the door handle. It didn't move.

Alex swore under his breath, starting to stress again. He refused to admit defeat yet. He just needed to-

Alex suddenly heard voices on the other side of the door, approaching quickly. Seeing no other hiding places, he quickly crouched behind a large pipe arching from the ground.

Just as he got himself hidden, there was the sound of keys on the other side and the door opened. A handsome, dark haired man back into the room, looking entirely unsteady on his feet.

But then, considering the stunning brunette woman who had her lips and arms locked around him, Alex thought maybe he could understand the man's wobbly legs. Alex suddenly understood why this room had no cameras.

The passionately kissing pair made it about halfway across the room before both of their legs gave out. They ended up sprawled on the ground, a mess of entangled limbs and rapidly disappearing clothing.

Alex stifled the urge to gag and looked away. To his incredulity, the door had been left ajar. His way forward was clear. He glanced over at the pair once more.

They wouldn't be noticing anything besides themselves for a little while, if the noises the woman were making were anything to go by.

Silently, Alex slipped from the room.

* * *

"There's no bomb."

"Pardon me?"

"There's no bomb!" The SAS trained bomb technician for the Royal and General turned to his commanding officer. "The bag is empty sir. It's a hoax."

"Damn." His commanding officer, a broad shouldered man with a shaved head and steely eyes by the name of Dan Bertini muttered. "Well, at least we don't have to worry about the street being blasted to hell."

"Yeah." The bomb technician dragged a dirty hand over his sweaty brow. "But who started all this?"

Dan shrugged and turned to one of the other guards. This man, slighter then the others, was busy tapping away on a laptop.

"I'm signing into the street's CCTV now," The man replied without looking up, "So we'll know in just a second."

Dan gave a grunt by way of reply and helped his bomb technician to his feet.

"Well, whoever it was, they made one bloody mess," He said grumpily, eyeing the street strewn with broken glass, abandoned possessions and other debris. "Everybody went bonkers."

"Are you surprised?" The bomb technician yawned, "Ever since the bus bombings, everybody has feared a repeat. Who knows what nutjobs orchestrated this rigmarole?"

"Gangs maybe." Dan replied, not really caring all that much.

"No," The man on the laptop suddenly said in a strained voice. "Something worse."

Dan frowned and walked over to the laptop. Its screen was frozen on a snapshot of a blurry face with an alert flashing in the corner.

"Facial recognition lists the face as Substantial Threat Four." The man on the laptop said, "Alex Rider."

Dan found there was only one response.

"Shit. Call the George."

* * *

Alan Blunt was in the middle of completing some paperwork when Mrs. Jones suddenly appeared at his office door. She didn't knock, which was nothing unusual.

What was unusual, however, was the expression on her face. Anger and fear.

"There was just a bomb threat outside the building." She said without preamble.

"I know."

"The response team ran a CCTV scan to determine who caused the threat. Facial Recognition pulled up an alert for a 'Substantial Threat'. As you know, Substantial Threats are persons who are considered substantial threats to this organisation's integrity due to their unique and compromising knowledge of past and present operations."

"As you said, I know all this already." Blunt pointed out, "So don't bother with the explanations. Tell me about the alert."

"Sir, Facial Recognition places Substantial Threat Four at the scene." Mrs. Jones' face was hard, awaiting orders.

"Alex Rider."

"Yes sir."

Alan Blunt folded his hands on his desk neatly, his mind considering the scenario before quickly coming to a decision.

"He's gotten more information somehow about Ray Dunne. He's here to get the rest of the picture. The bomb threat was a distraction. Put an alert out to building security and tell Dunne to report to the situation room."

"Sir?" Mrs. Jones didn't move, "There's more. Rider obviously takes our threats against Ms. Starbright seriously. Her papers just popped up at Heathrow. She's trying to catch a flight to Dublin…Out of our jurisdiction."

A small, bland smile appeared on Blunt's lips.

"Send a retrieval team to pick Ms. Starbright up. Bring her straight here and place her in media room three under armed guard. The alert for security is still in place, but with a new addition: if they encounter Rider, they have permission to use whatever means necessary to bring him in."

"You have a plan then?" Mrs. Jones asked, memorising her instructions instantly.

Blunt gave a brief, humourless laugh.

"You could say that."

* * *

**Uh-oh, that doesn't sound good for Alex or Jack...**


End file.
